


Inked

by akire_yta



Category: Jonas Brothers
Genre: Gen, tattoo!verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-24
Updated: 2013-08-24
Packaged: 2017-12-24 13:37:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/940610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the tattoo fic that started it all</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inked

It was a rare day off from filming, rehearsals, recordings, signings, the daily grind of being a Disney star, and Nick had vanished before his brothers had even woken up. Joe hadn’t even noticed Nick was gone until he was halfway through a bowl of cereal and realized that he hadn’t been molested by his baby brother. He wandered through the house they kept in LA, but there was no sign of the curly-haired wonder.

Instead, he found Kevin typing something on his computer. “Seen Nick?” he asked, slurping the last of the milk out of the cereal bowl.

“I think he’s gone out,” Kevin replied distractedly. “And dude, that’s gross.”

Joe rattled around the house all day. Days off were days you stayed in your pjs and watched cartoons and ate ten bowls of cereal, as far as he was concerned. But as the clock ticked past four, Joe found himself checking his messages every other minute.

“Dude, what is up with you? Nick’s a big boy now, he can take care of himself, even in LA,” Kevin told him as he wandered out into the lounge and set up the PS3. “Come on, I’ll race you.”

But Joe couldn’t shake the nervous feeling he had about his brother. Finally, Kevin paused the game in disgust. “Just call him, you freak.”

Joe hit speed dial. The call picked up and went straight to messages. “Nick, it’s Joe. Where are you, man? Kevin’s getting uppity on the PS, we need you to set him straight.”

Kevin frowned as Joe hung up, finally beginning to feel some of the nervousness that had stalked Joe all day. “Hey, you don’t think he’s still pissed about…you know.” He waved his hands in the air. “The whole company image thing?”

Joe bit his lip. “I don’t know. Has he said anything more to you?”

Kevin snorted a humourless laugh. “Dude, I didn’t even know the whole ‘clean image’ thing was upsetting him that much until he blew up in the meeting.” He shook his head. “We’re still on contract with _Disney_ , and we promised mom and dad about these…” he wiggled his fingers between them, making the purity ring glint as it passed in and out of shadow. “So I don’t think we’ll be touring with 50 Cent any time soon or anything. I mean, I get that he wants a career after the whole teen thing, but still…”

Joe fiddled with his own ring for a moment, a nervous habit he couldn’t seem to shake. “You don’t think he’d do anything…” He cut himself off at the sound of a key in the lock.

Nick strolled in, looking…different, somehow. “Hey, guys,” he said, smiling shakily.

Kevin frowned. “You okay, Nick?”

Nick nodded, and even from across the room Joe couldn’t miss his overbright eyes, the glassiness of his smile. “Never better.”

Kevin sighed, and Joe didn’t need to look over to see him move into ‘overprotective big brother’ mode. “Oh no, Nick. Please don’t tell me you’ve been drinking.” Even as Nick protested his innocent, Kevin strode across the room and grabbed him by the shoulders, leaning in for a sniff test.

Nick yelped, twisting out of Kevin’s grasp.

“What the heck,” Nick gasped.

Nick looked between them, considering his options. “Okay,” he said at last. “You’ll probably notice it anyway. Just please, don’t tell mom and dad until I do, okay?”

“Nick?” Joe and Kevin asked in chorus.

Shifting carefully, Nick wiggled out of his loose t-shirt. His entire right shoulder was wrapped in clingwrap, and as he moved closer, Joe could see a thin layer of gauze underneath. “Nick?” he asked softly, like he was talking to a skittish animal.

He shrugged, careful not to move his shoulder too far. “I have to keep the wrap on a little longer, then I can show you my design.”

Kevin buried his face in his hands. “Nick,” he said with forced calm. “Please don’t tell me you got a tattoo?”

Nick flushed slightly but kept his chin lifted determinedly.

Joe felt his eyes widen. “Nick, what about Disney?”

“What about them,” Nick spat. “Or do they own us that much? What about after? It’s my body, and anyway.” He ran his fingers around the bottom edge of the clingwrap. “I got one that can be covered by a t-shirt. You guys didn’t even notice, and it was all wrapped up. We can keep this between ourselves.”

“No,” Kevin sighed. “This is going to get out.” He scrubbed his face briefly with his hands, then glanced sideways at Joe. Joe read on his face the argument running through his brothers’ mind.

“Then it will get out,” he finished for him. “Hey, we’re a boy band. Don’t they traditionally have one bad boy.”

Nick choked on a relieved laugh, and Joe felt his little universe steady on its axis. “When can we see? I want to see. Just please don’t tell me it’s a skull and crossbones. Or a ‘MOM’ tattoo. Cos I don’t think that will save you when she finds out.”

 

 

 

Despite Kevin’s dire predictions, they actually managed to keep news of Nick’s tatts from getting out for several weeks. Kevin made sure Nick wore layers, long sleeves and jackets every time they went out, and Nick humoured him, parading each outfit for approval before departure.

When they were home, alone, however, it was another story entirely. Nick wore wifebeaters, or no shirts at all, and Joe was slowly getting used to seeing the splash of colour across his brothers’ once-pristine shoulder.

If he was being totally honest with himself, Joe was becoming fascinated with the whorls of colour, the flowers nestled into a bed of grey and green and wrapped around the swell of muscle that Nick had somehow acquired without anyone else really being aware of it.

“Did it hurt,” Joe blurted out one evening, late, after Kevin had already gone to bed.

Nick shrugged. “A little. But…but it was a good hurt,” he said slowly. “Like, you were earning it, I guess.” He smirked at Joe’s open fascination. “You can touch it, if you want.”

Joe traced his finger lightly over the edge of a petal, and tried to ignore the tiny little tug of ~want~ in his belly.

The next morning, he stumbled out of bed and walked into the kitchen to find Nick reaching for a bowl out of the cupboard over the sink and Kevin staring at Nick’s arm with hungry eyes. Joe touched his shoulder, and Kevin blinked and tried to pretend like nothing was wrong.

Joe smirked smugly, somehow relieved that he wasn’t the only one.

Life settled back into something more closely resembling their routine after that, and their attention shifted to the upcoming string of performances they’d agreed to do as a lead-in for the next big tour. Kevin still made sure that Nick kept himself covered, and Joe spared a thought, in between chords and lyrics, of what they were going to do once tour was over and they were back home with mom and dad, where jackets and layers would cause more suspicion than anything.

But that was the most attention he wasted on it all prep, until he walked into the greenroom before the first show to find a group of suits pawing through their clothes racks. Kevin and Nick were already dressed for the show – Kevin had started getting ready early as well, so it didn’t look so suspicious that Nick never used the dressing rooms where anyone could walk in anymore.

Joe looked between the suits and Kevin. Behind him, Nick rolled his eyes sarcastically. “What’s up, guys?” Joe asked, overbright.

The suit barely acknowledged him. “Just checking the costumes, making sure the tone is appropriate.”

Joe didn’t need to look at Nick to feel the heat of his scorn. “Cool,” Joe said for want of anything better, and reached over to accept the jacket he was handed.

Backstage, as the techs wired in the last of their monitors, Kevin grabbed Joe by the arm. “Keep an eye on Nick,” he said. He didn’t need to say why. Nick had been seething all through prep, and the same sense of foreboding Joe had had the day Nick got inked was filling him with a premonition of dread.

Joe rolled his shoulders as Kevin wandered over to his mark. He faked a smile and strode out into the spotlight.

The show went easily for the first half, through the changeover, and into the second part. The choreography was tight for an early show, the sound clear. No-one flubbed a line or a step, and the lights came up and went down in their preset patterns.

Joe stepped back to switch over his guitar for the next song, and saw Nick and his tech futzing with his sound gear. Joe shrugged and glanced over at Kevin, who shrugged back and went to chat into his microphone for a second, stalling long enough for Nick to get himself sorted.

Nick bounced up to the microphone a few moments later. “I know,” he laughed into his own mike, picking up his cue smoothly from Kevin. “But hey, are you guys having fun?” He grinned at the crowd, not his stage smile, but his more wicked, private grin. “Me too, but boy, is it hot up here.”

Joe saw Kevin slap his hand over his eyes as Nick shrugged out of his jacket to reveal a shirtless tee underneath. Under the stage lights, the colours in his ink glowed. “But we can take it, right? Come on, everyone, you know the words!”

Joe laughed. It was the only thing he could do, besides strum the opening chords to the next song. There was going to be hell to pay, but right now they had a show to finish.

 

 

After all the screaming (mother) and earnest conversation (lawyers), Joe was surprised they still had a contract. It might have had something to do with the thousands of fansites that sprang up overnight in honour of Nick’s ink. They may not be the purest of pure anymore, but tattoos were becoming mainstream, and Nick’s ink _was_ beautiful. The spin doctors would just have to deal.

But somehow, the whole mess simmered down into some passing cheap pot shots from late night hosts about how one tatt was meant to make them all cool or dangerous or something, and the occasional earnest debates in the entertainment press about Nick’s ink and impressionable young girls.

Joe thought their fans were more in danger of being poisoned by all the press-on temporary tattoos that had become de rigor, but whatever.

Months passed in a blur of work. Joe secretly suspected that Disney was pushing them extra hard so they wouldn’t have the time or energy to get into any more non-PC trouble, spreading them out as thinly as they dared.

Their latest trick was splitting them up to do media, one interview here, another there. Joe was finding it hard to remember to keep the smile on his face without his brothers there to elbow him in the ribs, or to tease it out of him. It was, he reflected as he was ushered out of yet another radio station by his handlers, not cool. Not cool at all.

His phone buzzed as he was bundled into the car. He flipped open the phone to find a message from Kevin.

_‘Where r u?’_

Joe tapped out a quick reply. _‘just done @ radio. u?’_

_‘interview cancelled. Gone downtown. Can u get out?’_

Joe fidgeted his nail against the edge of the phone case for a moment. “Hey guys, my brothers have gone out for icecream without me. Is it cool if you let me out downtown?”

His handlers swapped a look. Joe sighed, unwound his scarf, and dug through his backpack for a baseball cap and a pair of sunglasses. “Come on guys, it’s LA. People are used to celebrities lurking around in dark glasses, right?”

In the end, they agreed to let him go on the condition that they’d stay in the area, only a phone call away. Joe ducked down the nearest turning off the street and texted Kevin. _‘Free. Where r u?’_

He had to use his phone’s map function to track down the address they texted back. It was a non-descript door tucked away down a side street, no signage, just bars on the windows and a dead plant in a pot on the step. Joe dawdled for a moment, unsure whether to knock or just go in.

The door opened from the inside. “About time,” Nick said. “Come on, in. Security?”

Joe jerked his chin back towards the main street. “Probably still staking out the ice cream parlour we’re meant to be at.” He looked around as his eyes adjusted to the gloom. “What’s this place?”

Nick grinned widely, teeth white and bright in the dim lights. “My favourite place. Come on, come back and meet the Colonel.”

The front room was just an anteroom. Nick led Joe confidently through an unpainted wooden door and down a short passage. As he pushed through a beaded curtain, Joe blinked at the brighter light. It smelt vaguely of incense, and there was a high-pitched buzzing in the air.

“How you going, Kevin?” Nick asked as he walked straight towards a figure stretched out on a kind of padded table. “Colonel, this is our other brother,” he added as he jerked his thumb over his shoulder at Joe. “Joe, the Colonel.”

Joe finally put together all the pieces of information his senses were handing him. “Kev?” he asked faintly.

Kevin was lounging, head back on its rest, one arm held out to a guy with natty dreads. The machine in the guys’ hands was the source of the buzzing. “Hey Joe.”

Joe took a deep breath, then another. “Hey Kev. You know, mom was freaked out over Nick’s itty bitty little flowers. You might want to buy her a nice present before you let her see that.”

‘That’ was a series of lines that extended from shoulder to wrist.

“It’s called a sleeve,” Nick said helpfully. “He’s only just got started. He’s got _ages_ to go yet.”

The tattooist laughed. “Maybe another hour today.” He studied Kevin’s face. “Our boy is already feeling pretty high on the endorphins, don’t want to overload him.” His eyes tracked down the length of his arm. “This is a big piece for the first time.” With a gloved finger, he traced over the lines. “From here up is all stencil. I’ve made plenty of copies, so we don’t have to go through it all at once.” His smile was big as he looked up at Joe. “But when he finishes it, it is going to be _epic_. Ready to go again? Okay, nice deep breathes.”

Joe sat down on a stool by Kevin’s feet and watched with rapt attention as, inch by painful inch, the gun stuttered along the lines drawn on Kevin’s skin. Finally, the gun fell silent. Kevin reached out with his free hand and found Nick’s as the tattooist wiped down and wrapped up the first section. “There you go. Now, let’s go over after care….”

Twenty minutes later, the three of them were on the step with the dead plant. Kevin adjusted the cuff of his long-sleeved shirt with a wince. “How does it feel,” Nick asked, honestly curious.

“Like a bad sunburn, or a really big nettle rash,” Kevin said with a wry smile that faded as he looked at his brothers’ expression. “I’ve been thinking about this pretty much since Nick came home all wrapped up,” he said. Without needing to speak, they started walking back towards the main street. “I’ve been sitting on that design for a month at least, making sure it wasn’t just a passing want.”

Nick grinned at Joe from behind Kevin. “The Colonel is right, though. When it’s all done and shaded in? It’s going to look _awesome_.”

 

 

 

 

In the end, it took over a month of sneaking around, stealing a few hours here and there between all their other commitments, their handlers, their management and their parents. Each time, Kevin could take a little more, hold out a little longer before it all got too intense.

They tried to all go together. Joe was enthralled by the process, by the changes manifesting in his brother as the ink settled under his skin. This was something they could do together, by themselves and for themselves. They had to give so much away to do what they did, it was…nice, to hold something back, shared just between the three of them.

They were up to the coloured shading now. Kevin’s arm was wrapped in thick and thin lines, and the Colonel had already started on what he called the greyscale. The abstract wrap of ribbon and abstract curves stood out starkly against the flesh, rubbed raw with the newness of the ink.

As they prepped the colours, confirming the final tones, Nick stood up to stretch his legs, wandering vaguely along the rows of designs pinned up on a line by the windows like beautiful, fragile washing. There were heavy abstracts, like Kevin’s, and more colourful images, like Nick’s flowers, and everything in between.

He stopped, captivated by a series of designs that were more like watercolour paintings, delicate and ephemeral. They made Joe’s fingers itch for a pad and pencil, so he could try to capture the sound of the sight.

“Bluebirds,” a soft voice said by his shoulder. He half-turned and smiled politely at the dark, petite woman who had appeared by his side. “And swallows. Historically, a symbol of surviving a crossing the oceans, but now taken to mean surviving any great personal feat.” She reached up on tiptoe to unpeg the central design, and Joe noticed her feet were bare.

He dragged his gaze upwards as she coyly handed him the paper. Up close, the design was even more striking, the birds delicate strokes of blue next to the fine traceries symbolizing cage and tree, confinement and freedom sharing lines.

“It’s beautiful,” he breathed.

She studied him a moment, then turned and walked lightly over to the desk set up in the corner of the studio. She dug out a plain manila folder, and a pen. “Joe, wasn’t it,” she asked. At his nod of confirmation, she wrote “Joe, Nick and Kevin’s brother” on the label before taking the sheet of tracing paper out of his slack fingers and slotting it into the folder. “I’ll keep this safe for you,” she murmured conspiratorially.

Joe shook his head, ignoring that tickle of ~want~ that had started up deep inside. “I’m here for Kevin, not…”

Her smile silenced him. “You’re one of us,” she said, lifting her arms to reveal two stunningly coloured sleeves. “I know. But it is for a lifetime.” She patted the folder gently. “And it will wait until you’re ready.”

The memory of the birds stayed with him all the way home, all the way through dinner and conversation, phone calls and shower. He dreamed of birds all night, but when he awoke, he could not recall anything but the flutter of their wings.

Ten days crawled by, slow like quicksilver. They were doing filming, bursts of activity followed by long periods just waiting around. Joe scrounged a pen and a notepad off a PA and found a quiet corner. His pen moved aimlessly as he tried for inspiration, doodling words and snatches of phrases he knew they’d never use.

He didn’t know how long he had been sitting like that, until Kevin found him. “Dude, come on, they’re almost ready for us.” He stole the notebook at glanced at the top page. “Bird brain,” he added fondly.

Joe tossed down the pen and fell into step with his brother. “Kev, can I ask…” he glanced around. “How did you know you wanted…that you were ready…” he sighed and looked meaningfully at his brothers left arm, neatly camouflaged in a long-sleeved shirt.

Kevin looked at his sideways. “I did it for me, not because Nick did,” he said defensively.

Joe held up his hands. “Didn’t say you did. I just…was curious.”

Kevin stopped and studied him. “Do you want…?”

“Yeah,” Joe said. “Not because of you two, either,” he added quickly. “I mean, you showed me and all, but I…I love Nick’s, and yours. They suit you, and they’ve changed you, for the better and…”

Kevin smiled. “Is that what you and Dani were talking about, last time we were there?”

Joe smiled, feeling his cheeks warm with embarrassment. “You know, I didn’t even get her name?”

They resumed strolling towards the set. “She’s the Colonel’s designer. She designed mine, and Nick’s.” They paused for a moment as a PA passed close by. “You were looking at a design?”

Joe sighed slowly. “I think a design found me. I just…”

Kevin paused, hands on the door to set. “I did this…thing. I tried to picture it on me tomorrow. Then next year. Then ten years. When I could do that, I knew it was right.”

Joe nodded. “Thanks.”

Kevin reached over and scuffed his hair. “That’s what brothers are for.”

 

 

 

Dani was waiting as the three of them trooped past that dead plant and through the passage to the studio. She gave them each a hug in turn. “Welcome back,” she beamed. “Is it ready to have a photo taken for my wall?”

Kevin nodded, already stripping off the layers of clothes. The skin had healed, smooth and pale where it could be seen beneath the ink, made all the more striking by the heavy shading and the light touches of muted colour.

Dani inhaled sharply. “Beautiful. Come, come by the window, where the light is best.”

Joe watched Dani drag his brother over, arranging him like he was her canvas before taking up a tiny digital camera. He hung back, leaning against the work couch as Dani snapped photo after photo, pulling Nick in after a while to add his ink to her composition.

He looked up at the Colonel’s warm chuckle. “She’s having fun, I see.”

Joe shrugged. “You did good. It’s worth recording.”

They watched in silence for a moment as Dani tugged Nick and Kevin over to her computer and showed them her photographs. “Dani tells me she’s started a folio for you.”

Joe licked his lips. “Bluebirds,” he said at last.

“Ah. A passing fancy?”

Joe tilted his head. “I want to be absolutely sure. No doubt.”

The older nodded. “No doubt,” he echoed. “Would you like to see?” Confused, Joe followed him over to the desk. “When Dani showed me what you had selected, I took the liberty of making a stencil.” He held up a set of heavy papers, held together with a paperclip. “No needles, just the lines. If you’re curious.”

Joe nodded. “Yeah, totally.” He looked over to see his brothers watching him. “Mind if we…”

Nick cut him off with a wave. “Dude, less talking, more stencilling.” He bowed theatrically to the Colonel. “Draw on him, please.”

Dani applied the stencil herself, pressing the transfer on with confident strokes of her fingers. Joe tried to hold himself still, sitting upright on the edge of the tattooing table as Dani moved around him, unfurling the stencil up his arm, across his back and over his far shoulder. “Dude,” Nick breathed as Dani leaned in to tease flat the last edge of the stencil. “Just… _dude_!”

As she moved back, Dani pulled Joe to his feet and led him over to the window. “There,” she murmured to herself as she picked up the camera and snapped a few shots. “Let me show you.”

Joe’s breath caught in his chest as she brought the first shots up onto the monitor.  
”Wow,” he managed. He was ready to be done, right there and then. He glanced up at the Colonel, his impenetrable gaze. “I…can I take these home? Or email them to me. I want to sleep on it.”

Nick made a noise, but the Colonel nodded. “Be sure.”

“99% of the way,” Joe admitted wryly. “But I’ll know by morning.”

Dani smiled. “Shall I make you the appointment, just in case.”

Joe stared at the screen. “Yeah. I think so.”

 

 

 

Their parents arranged for them to have some time off to come home just two weeks after Joe made the birds a permanent part of himself. As he took his jacket off in the kitchen, his mother laid a hand on his back, pushing his pale t-shirt taunt against the skin a moment before sighing loudly. “Not you too,” she said disappointedly. “All right, better show me.”

Wordlessly, he tugged his shirt off over his head. She studied the birds for a moment. “I suppose I should be grateful they’re not totally hideous,” she said at last.

As soon as they were out of sight of their parents, Nick hit him in the arm. “I get an hour long lecture, you get a tsk tsk. Not fair.”

“Sucks to be you,” Joe shot back with a laugh as he pushed his brother up the stairs.

Later, swimming at the pool, Joe was aware of the glances and stares. Some people knew them, or knew their family. The swathes of ink warranted a second glance. One or two people even drifted over to their mother, whispering to her in tones of condolence.

Joe ignored them in favour of canon-balling his brothers and their friends.

Later, munching on pizza, someone produced a camera. Nick leaned in. “Isn’t this your bluebird’s first outing?”

Joe smiled as the flash went off.

 


End file.
